


Covet

by peachsoul



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, everyone in the NHL is emotionally stunted except Mitch apparently, we just need some sad hockey boys sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsoul/pseuds/peachsoul
Summary: So, yeah, everything comes back to Connor fucking McDavid and Dylan can’t get away from it no matter how much he wants to (which, if he lets himself be honest, he doesn’t want to get away from it, not Connor, never Connor.)





	Covet

**Author's Note:**

> Ummmm,,,,,, Hi. I promise no one is asking me to write any more of these goofy ass hockey boys, but guess what, I'm out here anyways. I just get really sad at 3AM sometimes and this happens so I hope everyone enjoys at least a little. 
> 
> The timeline is all sorts of messed up, so just pretend that the events that take place just somehow make sense, Thx 
> 
> Also I listened to Covet by Basement and When You Can't Sleep At Night by Of Mice & Men on repeat while writing this so if you want Real Emo shit, listen while you read.
> 
> If you found this by googling yourself, or you know someone written about in this story, exit now please and thank you. This is all a story of fiction.

Dylan doesn’t answer the 6 texts and 3 snaps he gets from Connor the day that it’s announced he’s getting sent up, and it was obvious that it was going to be a permanent thing. 

 

Go figure that the coyotes management finally decided to keep him up when shit had not only hit the fan, but had managed to bring the entire fan crumbling down, but Dylan won’t dwell on that too much, because you know, Connor finally texted him after 4 months of radio silence. 

 

He reads the text though, because he’s still the same sadistic teenager he was the first time Connor stopped answering his text, slowly but surely, over the timespan of a few months.

 

_ Congrats Dyls!! Everything always works out dude. _

 

_ I knew you could do it. _

 

_ I guess it makes sense that ur probs busy getting settled...txt me when you can. _

 

_ Miss you man.  _

 

Dylan doesn’t read the remaining messages, but he doesn’t delete the thread. Can’t force himself to do it no matter how long he spends looking at Connor’s contact name at the top of his messages. 

 

Dylan has to take a minute to breathe deeply when he looks at the contact picture for too long, he misses Connor something fierce, and it’s a slap in the face to see them both smiling at the camera, warm and laying in Dylan’s childhood bed. Dylan is jealous of his old self, so young, and so so damn hopeful and in love with Connor.

 

He ignores the snapchats completely. Dylan knows Connor probably got the message that he was ignoring him, with Dylan still posting stupid snap stories of him, Max, and Jakob at the pool and all.

 

The point was not to show Connor that he was trying to move on, be better, but Dylan couldn’t help the twist of relief when Connor is the first one to view his story, 2 minutes after he posts it. 

  
It all got way too damn complicated, and Dylan avoids thinking about it too much because that leads to late nights, staring up at the ceiling  in a hotel room in the middle of Vancouver after an OT loss, thinking about how,  _ yeah _ , maybe he was only good because of Connor.

 

And, fuck, Dylan knows he’s good and he’s had enough facetime calls with Mitch and Merks to know that objectively he’s good, great on some nights. Yet, Dylan can’t help to think back to a few years ago, before everything got so fucking awful, and considers that his prime.

 

Everything comes back to Connor somehow, it always comes back to Connor.

\---------------

 

_ “I need you Dyls, so fucking much. You can’t go anywhere, you have to promise. You’re the only one who knows this McJesus stuff is bullshit.” _

 

Connor had been so drunk in the middle of the Mcleod’s living room 2 months before he was meant to settle into his place in Edmonton. He had clung onto Dylan’s hand, all warm and sweaty and absolutely everything Dylan had dreamed of.

 

_ “Dude, you’re so drunk, slow down, the beer isn’t going to go anywhere.” _ Dylan had cupped Connor’s face in his hands then, rubbed his thumb soothingly along Connor’s freshly shaved jawline. Dylan laughed as Connor let out a small, pleasant hum.

 

_ “You’re not listening Dylan….I need you. Everyone needs me, but I need you, do you get that.”  _ Emphasizing every word with a small jab to Dylan’s chest, Connor had looked at Dylan through glazed eyes, lips red from being bitten for the greater part of the night. 

 

And how could Dylan say no to that. Dylan would never dare to say no to that. 

 

\-------------

 

They don’t kiss that night, even though they come close when Dylan whispers promises of forever and always into Connor’s ears. And they don’t kiss when Dylan goes to visit Connor in Edmonton for 2 days, calming him amongst the craziness that comes with being the next great one.

 

There’s no chance for them to kiss then because Connor has an anxiety attack 3 hours after Dylan arrives in Edmonton in the middle of the kitchen because everything is  _ too _ fucking much and he’s only 18 and he’s not going to live up to the hype.

 

Dylan tells him he’s stupid, but only after placing Connor’s hand on his heart and counting out breaths with him, in and out, minute by minute. They sit there on the kitchen floor in the middle of Taylor Hall’s apartment on a Saturday afternoon until Connor can laugh at one of Dylan’s stupid stories about how he knows Nate and Mikey have hooked up about a billion times. 

 

There might have been a  _ maybe _ moment that night when they settle in for a cheesy rom-com that Connor loves, but then as Connor looks up at Dylan for a second, soft smile on full display with something burning in his eyes, Taylor Hall slams into the apartment with Jordan Eberle clearly laughing through the speaker phone.

 

Dylan always notices how pink and soft Connor’s lips look, just all the time.

 

\---------------

So, yeah, everything comes back to Connor fucking McDavid and Dylan can’t get away from it no matter how much he wants to (which, if he lets himself be honest, he doesn’t want to get away from it, not Connor, never Connor.)

 

Dylan avoids media like the plague for a few days. He knows what the articles and tweets will say regardless of how many points he puts up. He’s not the one trying to save a dying franchise like Jack or Connor anyways, but they still talk, compare him to Mitch and everyone else in his draft year.

 

So yeah he avoids everything basically, Dylan Strome style.

 

But, of course, he can’t avoid the wrath that is Mitchell Marner.

 

“You can’t avoid him forever Stromer.” 

 

Dylan resist the urge to roll his eyes, as Mitch gives him the same knowing look he always does when it comes to the entire Connor situation. Sometimes Dylan feels like a really bad friend, in the end, Mitch is Connor’s friend too and he’s stuck in the middle of this disaster that he had nothing to do with.

 

Yet, Mitch makes it his soul mission to try and fix the disaster that Dylan and Connor have become every time they get on facetime. 

 

“I haven’t talked to you in 2 weeks, and this is how you want to start the conversation Mitch?” Dylan smiles slightly as Mitch sighs dramatically, he screenshots a particularly unflattering angle 

of Mitch as the connection slows. He’ll send it to Auston later, he’ll probably want it for his lockscreen, or something equally as corny.

 

“Don’t you miss him Dylan?”

 

And,  _ Jesus _ , it feels like a punch to the jaw. Dylan is so very tired all of a sudden.

 

“Sorry...I just...I know technically it’s none of a my business Dylan, but you guys are like my best friends or something like that,” Dylan lets out a short bark of laughter at that. “You guys are just happier together, everyone knows that, even Eichel knows it dude and he’s, like ,so dense.” 

 

And, that’s technically not fair to Jack (Dylan is trying is damn near hardest to be nice to Jack after accidentally drunk dialing him after Connor hadn’t responded his text for the 4th time in a row, it had taken him 5 minutes of rambling and blubbering for Jack to speak up, and he wasn’t an ass about it, so Dylan respects him) but, it did take him 2 years to realize what him and Hanny were doing wasn’t just Bros.

 

“I don’t know how to not miss him Mitch, and that’s the problem.” Dylan scrubs a hand through his unruly hair, he hasn’t really felt up to doing much these past few weeks, let alone shower consistently. He avoids looking at the sadness that’s creeping behind Mitch’s eyes.

 

“It’s not a problem to miss your best...friend? Or like, whatever you guys were. It’s actually pretty normal Stromer.” Mitch gives him a small, amused smile across the screen. 

 

Maybe it’s the fact that Mitch is always so damn positive about the situation, or maybe it’s the fact that Dylan feels so bad for keeping Mitch up till 3AM some nights because he can’t  _ breathe,  _ and Connor is so far away that a plane ride ro Edmonton wouldn’t even fix the constant ache in the chest, or maybe it’s the fact that at that very moment Dylan realizes Mitch is wearing one of Auston’s shirts and something fierce burns in his chest, something ugly and dark twist in his stomach. So he lets go, because he can’t, he just fucking can’t anymore.

 

“It’s a problem when he doesn’t answer my calls and text and snapchats for months Mitch.I love him, and guess what? He can’t even pick up his phone to text me back. I would have taken anything from him Marns, literally anything, I would have taken a ‘Fuck off Strome, I’ve outgrown you, stop texting me’ better than radio fucking silence for 4 months Mitch,” Dylan’s lungs burn because he’s not  _ breathing _ and Mitch is giving him a scared look from across the phone and he’s in fucking Toronto on the couch in living room of the apartment he shares with his boyfriend and it’s all so much. “I am nothing without him….and he’s still everything without me.”

 

Dylan takes a deep breath and brushes the stray tears he didn’t realize were falling from his eyes, and messes with the strings of his hoodie so that he can avoid the heartbroken look Mitch is undoubtedly giving him.

  
“Dylan…” Mitch starts saying with the same soft voice he always uses when Dylan blows up.

 

“I know Mitch, I know.” Dylan knows that speech that Mitch has lined up for him, and as much as Dylan loves Mitch for trying so hard, he just can’t hear it right now.

 

“He called me the other night,” Mitch says with his voice full of determination. “Listen, this is definitely between you and him, and neither of you have told me what happened between the both of you, but he loves you Dylan...like, loves you, loves you.”

 

Dylan blows out of breath of air. He misses Connor so fucking much.

 

“We kissed,” Dylan bites his lip hard. “The Summer after the draft. Then he left and didn’t text me back. I felt like that was a pretty clear answer.” 

 

There’s more to the story, like how Connor gripped onto Dylan’s hands as if he were afraid that Dylan would disappear if he let go. And how they were both shaking so intensely because here they finally were, Connor with a C in the NHL and Dylan with more articles about how he's the biggest bust of their draft year than ever before. None of it mattered though, Connor had kissed him as though he was determined to erase all the pressure and doubt that had built between them the past year.

 

_ “Tell me you want this Dylan, this is the one thing I’m going to let myself have.”  _ Connor had whispered into Dylan’s cheek, his hands finding solid purchase in Dylan’s hair.

 

_ “Anything Connor, just anything dude. Everything. _ ” Dylan had kissed the words into Connor’s mouth, and he meant them, God, he fucking meant them. 

 

But none if mattered now. Dylan is in Arizona in an apartment he’s still too afraid to unpack because he can’t let himself have this, not when it’s gone to shit every other time. And Connor is in Edmonton, not preparing for the playoffs, but on his way to win the Art Ross, again. It’s so on par for how everything has gone so far, that it makes Dylan want to cry.

 

“Connor is pretty dense himself Dyls, you know that better than anyone, he doesn’t like letting himself just...have things like a normal person.” Dylan doesn’t even question why Mitch isn’t surprised about him and Connor, they weren’t exactly sneaky.

 

“Maybe we just both have to not let ourselves have this one thing.” Dylan feels his heart in his throat, hates how the words taste in his mouth.

 

Mitch laughs hallowly and stares at Dylan intensely through the phone.

 

“You’re both fucking dumb if you let this go.” Mitch says definitely.

 

And, that’s really it Dylan guesses.

 

\--------

 

So Dylan answers when Connor calls him at 4 in the morning on a Wednesday night, because Dylan’s so sick of missing of him when he’s right  _ there _ .

 

“Connor?” Dylan mumbles tiredly into the phone, reaching over to turn on his lamp, filling his room with a soft glow.

 

“Oh...you answered,” Dylan’s chest aches at the sound of Connor’s voice. “Hi.”

 

“Why are you calling me at 4 in the morning dude?” Dylan settles into his pillows, willing down the whimper in his voice as Connor lets out a breath that sounds like a chuckle.

 

“Yeah, sorry, I just, fuck man, Hi,” Connor sighs into the phone, Dylan can picture him running his fingers through his hair. “I just…..was going to leave a voicemail.”  

“You already said Hi Connor.” Dylan doesn’t care much for making this hard on Connor, but also, Dylan has been burning for so so long, so Connor can be the one sweating for once.

 

“Yeah I know sorry….I’m just….I never thought I was going to get the chance to say Hi again Dyls.” Dylan closes his eyes and lets himself sink deeper into the bed, lulled by Connor’s soft breathing.

“I was never going to let you go dumbass.” Dylan is so tired of not letting himself have thing and he’s right there...he’s just right there.

 

“Mitch kind of maybe realize that, I’m so fucking sorry Dylan.” Connor’s voice waivers and it’s so late and there’s a flicker of hope lighting up in Dylan’s chest and it’s so dangerous, but, he loves Connor and by some chance, Connor loves him back.

 

“Who are you taking to the NHL awards mister Art Ross winner?” And because Dylan is still himself, and they are still them, he knows that they need normality for now, until they can see each other face to face at least.

 

“Uh...I don’t know why? And don’t say that, we don’t know that yet.” Connor says, his voice unreadable, and it’s so  _ Connor _ that Dylan laughs out loud, giddy and excited.

 

“Well, I love you idiot, so you’ll be taking me….and we can talk then, like, actually talk.” Dylan hears himself whisper into the phone, everything feeling so fragile suddenly.

 

“I-I love you too Dylan, sorry it took me so long.” Dylan screws his eyes shut and basks in the way Connor sounds so light and content to say it back to Dylan, as if saying the words took a weight off his shoulders.

 

“Hey, we’re both stupid, but everyone knew that.I’m pretty sure Mitch and Matthews have a bet going on or something. We’ll talk some more when it’s not 4 in the morning Connor. I want to hear your voice when I’m not half asleep dude.” Dylan misses him and now they have so much time to make up for everything, so maybe Dylan can sleep peacefully for the first time in months.

 

“Yeah you’re probably right, I’m not entirely sure this isn’t just a fever dream I’m having.” Connor giggles and something settles nicely in Dylan’s chest.

 

“Goodnight Con...text me in the morning.” Dylan yawns into the recieve, feels content when he hears Connor shuffling around in his own bed on the other end.

 

“Of course. Night, Stromer.” Connor laughs gently into the phone before hanging up.

 

And for the first time in months, Dylan isn’t so afraid to fall asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope some of you enjoyed this mess!!! Thanks for reading you beautiful angels!! ~~~
> 
> You can catch me @ sventeens on tumblr if you'd like :33


End file.
